When Ace Kane finally opened his eyes, the light filtering through the curtains was already warm and pale, carrying with it the quiet stillness unique to early mornings.
For a brief second, his mind was empty.
Then he turned his head.
And there was Lora Hale.
She sat sideways at his waist, close enough that he could feel her warmth even through the sheets. She was still wearing that pink silk nightdress, the neckline dipping just enough to draw the eye without trying. The fabric clung lightly to her curves, soft and smooth, rising and falling with her breathing.
Her head was lowered.
Not shyly—curiously.
Her expression was open, serious in the way people became when trying to understand something unfamiliar, as if she were studying a puzzle she didn’t quite dare to name.
Ace follow
